The Redemption of Althalus (83 page)

“I love this boy,” Leitha said fondly.

“What are you talking about, Bheid?” Aleikon demanded when the Exarchs responded to Bheid’s summons the next morning.

“I’m trying to save your lives, Aleikon,” Bheid explained. “You heard Argan’s sermon at Dail. The peasants are butchering every priest they find. I
must
get you gentlemen to safety.”

Aleikon scoffed. “There are safe places where we can hide.”

“Oh, really?” Althalus asked. “The peasants and city laborers are everywhere, Exarch Aleikon, and all it’d take to expose you and your Brown Robes would be one set of curious eyes. Bheid’s right. If you want to live, leave—and take Prince Marwain with you.”

“I think you’d better listen to him, Aleikon,” Exarch Emdahl rasped. “And maybe you and I’d better listen, too, Yeudon. We selected Bheid to deal with the situation here in Perquaine, so why don’t we just pack up and leave so that he can do his job?”

“It might be best,” Yeudon agreed.

A weary-looking priest entered the office and spoke with Aleikon. “Prince Marwain is here, my Exarch,” he announced. “He demands an immediate audience.”

“We aren’t quite through here yet, Brother,” Bheid told the priest. “Tell Marwain that he’ll have to wait.”

Aleikon’s pudgy face went pale, and his eyes bulged. “You can’t
do
that!” he gasped. “Marwain’s the ruler of Maghu.
Nobody
keeps him waiting!”

“Nothing ever stays the same, Aleikon,” Althalus said philosophically. “It’ll be good for Marwain to discover that.”

“Nobody’s going to take Bheid’s Grey Robes seriously with the rest of us lurking around every corner,” Emdahl rasped. “We hired him to do a job, so now let’s get out of his way and let him do it.”

“But—” Aleikon started to protest.

“Your house is on fire, Aleikon,” Yeudon pointed out. “You’d better leave while you still can—and take all your Brown Robes with you. We aren’t dealing with ordinary people here. I had to come to grips with that during the Ansu invasion of Wekti. What’s happening here in Perquaine’s a continuation of that war, and our enemies aren’t all human. The gates of Nahgharash have been opened, Aleikon, and you know what that means.”

Aleikon’s face blanched at Yeudon’s mention of Nahgharash. Evidently his nightmares still haunted him.

“One other thing, Exarch Aleikon,” Leitha said pleasantly. “You might as well call in the Brown Robes you’ve been trying to conceal in the general population. They can’t really hide, you know. Koman can sniff them out, and Argan will use them for firewood. Brother Bheid’s the only one who can deal with Argan, so you and your Brown Robes had better run while you can.”

“I think we’ve just about exhausted the possibilities of this particular conversation,” Emdahl observed. “We should call in Marwain before he boils over. Let’s give him his marching orders and get him out from underfoot, shall we?”

Prince Marwain appeared to be on the verge of apoplexy as he stormed into the office. “How
dare
you?” he almost screamed. “Don’t you know who I am? I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life.”

Aleikon tried to smooth things over. “We had a problem to deal with, your Highness. We do have a crisis of sorts on our hands.”

“This peasant uprising?” Marwain sneered. “You frighten too easily, Aleikon. I’ll crush their rebellion the moment they approach Maghu. One word from me, and they all die.”

“Not too likely, Prince Marwain,” Emdahl said bluntly. “The peasants outnumber your forces by about a thousand to one.”

“Who is this man, Aleikon?” Marwain demanded.

“This is Exarch Emdahl of the Black Robes, your Highness,” Aleikon replied.

“Let’s clear the air here right now,” Emdahl rasped. “We’ve just concluded a meeting of the high council of the Church, and the Church isn’t answerable to secular authorities in purely religious matters. The Church is being realigned in response to the current crisis. The Brown Robe order will depart, and the Grey Robes will replace them.”

“Why wasn’t I consulted?” Marwain exclaimed. “You can’t
do
this without my permission.”

“We just did.”

“I forbid it!”

Yeudon stepped in. “Forbid all you want, Prince Marwain. The Brown Robes no longer have any authority in Perquaine. If you have any religious questions, you’ll have to take them up with Exarch Bheid of the Grey Robe order.”

“I’ll call out the guard!” Marwain blustered. “I’ll have you all clapped into my dungeon! Nobody makes decisions like this without my permission!”

“Well, Bheid,” Emdahl said slyly, “how do you plan to deal with this little problem?”

“Firmly,” Bheid answered in a voice quite nearly as harsh as Emdahl’s. His face turned bleak as he looked at the spluttering nobleman. “The high council of the Church has made its decision, Prince Marwain, and that decision is final. The other orders are leaving Perquaine even now, and the Grey Robes are replacing them.
We
are the Church now, and I’m the voice of the Church, so you’d better shut your mouth and listen to me.”

Exarch Aleikon winced.

“I don’t have the time to be diplomatic, Prince Marwain,” Bheid continued, “so I’m going to put this to you rather bluntly. You and the rest of the aristocracy—with the connivance of the Brown Robe order—have been running roughshod over the commoners for a long time, and now it’s coming home to roost. Your arrogance and outright brutality have opened the door for certain people you
really
don’t want to meet. Those people have stirred up the commoners of Perquaine to the point that nothing’s going to satisfy them but blood, and it’s
your
blood they want.”

Prince Marwain’s face turned pale.

“You seem to have grasped my point,” Bheid said. “That isn’t an army that’s marching on Maghu, Prince Marwain. It’s an undisciplined sea of people, and they’ll walk right over any force you could possibly raise. They’ll swarm into Maghu like a horde of ants, killing anybody who gets in their way. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if their first order of business is going to be putting your head on a pole over the city gate, and then they’ll probably loot Maghu right down to the cobblestones. After that, they’ll most likely burn the city to the ground.”

“God wouldn’t permit that!” Marwain asserted.

“I wouldn’t make any large wagers on that, your Highness,” Bheid told him. “I’m fairly well acquainted with God, and he doesn’t usually involve himself in the affairs of people.”

“This is starting to get tiresome,” Althalus muttered. “Have you got the location of the door to the island Em told us about locked in your mind, Eliar?”

“Pretty much, yes,” the kilted young Arum replied. “We aren’t going to use it
now,
though, are we?”

“I can’t see any reason why not. I’ll blow some smoke in Marwain’s ear about a secret tunnel down in the cellar. Then we’ll take him and Aleikon downstairs. Pick any door down there that suits you and lead us on through into the House. Then you can lead them to their new home. Pay fairly close attention to what I tell Marwain and make things sort of match up. All right?”

“Anything you say, Althalus,” Eliar agreed.

Then Althalus rose and crossed the room to the richly dressed Prince Marwain. “Excuse me, your Highness,” he said politely. “My name’s Althalus, and I’m sometimes known as the Duke of Kenthaigne.”

“I’ve heard of you, your Grace,” Marwain said with a slight bow.

“Your Highness.” Althalus also bowed. “I had to set aside my personal business to assist Exarch Bheid with certain courtesies and practicalities. Churches sometimes seem to have trouble with those—or had you noticed?”

Marwain laughed. “Many, many times, your Grace,” he replied.

“I thought you might have.” Althalus threw a quick glance at Exarch Aleikon. The high churchman’s wooden expression strongly suggested that Dweia had already closed down his mind. Althalus spoke again to Marwain. “Anyway, when I heard the news about this human sea marching on Maghu, I started looking for an escape route. Exarch Bheid might believe that he can pray his way out of this mess, but I think I’d prefer to look after myself. I snooped around here in the temple, and I found an ideal way to leave Maghu, completely unnoticed. Since we’re both noblemen, courtesy obliges me to share that information with you.” He sighed theatrically. “Sometimes I’m so courteous that I can barely stand myself.”

Marwain grinned broadly. “You and I are going to get along just fine, Duke Althalus,” he said.

“I’m sure of it. There’s no real hurry at the moment, since the rebels haven’t found their way here yet, but when things start getting noisy here in Maghu, we might get separated, so maybe I’d better show you—and Exarch Aleikon—this quick way out of town right now, so that you’ll be able to find it yourselves in the event of an emergency.”

“Excellent idea, Duke Althalus. Where’s your escape route located?”

“In the cellar, of course. Underground passages almost always start in a cellar. This one hasn’t been used for centuries, if the cobwebs I had to wade through are any indication. It goes under the streets of Maghu and comes out in some woods out beyond the city walls. Nobody’ll see us leave, and nobody’ll see us when we come out of the tunnel.”

“We may never need it,” Marwain said, “but it might not be a bad idea to have a look at it, eh, Aleikon?”

“As your Highness commands,” Aleikon said in a numb voice.

“Lead the way then, Eliar,” Althalus said.

“Right,” Eliar replied, starting toward the door.

What are they seeing?
Althalus sent his quick thought to Eliar.

Cobwebs, torchlight, a few mice,
the young man replied.
If you’ve seen
one tunnel, you’ve pretty much seen them all.

You’re probably right. How much farther?

Just a little way. The door opens into a small clearing in the woods. When
we get to it, give me a moment to adjust the door frame. It’s morning in Maghu,
but it’s already nighttime in Dhweria. I’ll have to arrange for us to come out at
pretty much the same time of day so Marwain doesn’t get suspicious.

Good idea,
Althalus agreed.

Eliar moved quickly on ahead, paused for a few moments, and then looked back. “Here it is,” he called back.

“Well,
finally,
” Marwain said. “I was starting to think your tunnel went on forever, Duke Althalus.”

“Maghu
is
a fairly big city, your Highness,” Althalus reminded him. “Now, as soon as we come out in the woods, we’d better take a quick look around to make certain that nobody’s watching us. Why don’t you and the Exarch push on through to the far edge of the grove of trees while Eliar and I go back to the side facing the city walls? We don’t want some peasant with a big mouth telling everybody in town that he just saw us, do we?”

“Not even the least little bit,” Marwain agreed. “A thorough search is definitely in order. After we’ve taken a look around, we’ll meet back at the mouth of the tunnel, right?”

“Exactly,” Althalus agreed. “When you get to the edge of the trees, you might want to see if there’s a ravine or a brushy lane leading off to the east. If we need to be sneaky when we leave town, we should plan ahead.”

“You’re very good at this, Duke Althalus.”

“I had a fairly exciting boyhood, your Highness. The Duchy of Kenthaigne was a lively place to grow up. We’ll see you in a half hour or so.”

“Right,” Marwain agreed. “Come along, Aleikon.” Then the two of them crossed the clearing and entered the woods.

Em,
Althalus called silently.

Her voice came back immediately.
Yes, love?

You might want to keep Aleikon’s head turned off for a little while. Let
those two wander around in the woods for a bit before Marwain finds out the
bad news.

Whatever makes you happy, dear.

Althalus reached out and thoughtfully patted the open door. “Keep the location of this one in mind, Eliar,” he suggested. “It might be very useful on down the line. Emmy’s tail fluffs out when I kill people, and this gives me an alternative. Let’s go back to Maghu and pick up the others. I think we’ll need to have a little private conference.”

“Right,” Eliar agreed. Then he led Althalus back into the east corridor of the House and quietly closed the door behind them.

Sergeant Khalor had been at the window in Dweia’s tower all day, and his face was bleak when Althalus and the others came up the stairs. “My best guess is two weeks,” he reported. “They’re consolidating their positions as they move north, and that’s not really an army down there. It’s an undisciplined mob, and most of them are much more interested in looting than they are in religion or social change.”

“Revolutions tend to turn out that way,” Dweia said rather sadly. “The theorists make high-minded speeches. Their followers cheer and applaud—briefly—and then they get back to the business of appropriating everything of value.”

“You’re in a cynical humor this evening, Em,” Althalus noted.

“I’ve seen this all before, Althalus,” she replied wearily, “many, many times. An idea that’s born in glory starts to tarnish almost immediately.” She sighed and then seemed to shake off her gloom. “There are a few things you’ll all need to know. The dream I gave you established what and where.”

“I know that you and Leitha were in the temple in Maghu,” Andine said, “but exactly what were you doing?”

“Cleaning house,” Dweia replied simply. “Leitha disposed of Koman, Bheid and I dealt with Argan.”

“That’s the where and the what, Emmy,” Gher said, “but what about the when? Ghend always seems to play around with the when part when he comes up with one of those dream things. Did your dream thing happen now? Or is it maybe in some other when?”

“It wasn’t in the world of now, Gher. In order for a dream vision to really work, it has to be either in the past or in the future. Their purpose is to change things. It’s remotely possible to make changes by altering now, but it’s easier if you go back—or forward.”

“That seems to have gone right past me,” Andine admitted.